Sleeping Habits
by GabbyAbby
Summary: They slept so differently. House's look into the three woman in his life and how they sleep.
1. Lisa

**Sleeping Habits**_Part 1/3_

_Lisa _

-------------

He met Lisa Cuddy while they were still in college. She was a couple of years younger and knew exactly the type of affect she had on men. It was probably what drew him to her. He liked the confidence he saw in her steps as she walked around campus, always reading something and smirking over her shoulder when an idiot or two stopped mid-conversation to watch as she passed.

Sometimes he couldn't blame them because her ass needed to be admired in her form fitting clothing.

It was nothing but sex, and he couldn't find a reason to complain because she was great.

His relationship with her was just a taking from one another sort of thing, she was after the legend he was already becoming and he just wanted some sort of distraction from everything that was going on in his life.

It could never be said that he didn't notice ever minimal detail about everything, about everyone. So when it came to a point in their 'relationship' that he was just too fucking tired to get up from her tangled sheets he had weighed his options, go back to his snoring roommate or stay in her private room and possibly wake up in the middle of the night for another round.

He was surprised when she finally fell asleep, because all the confidence she so openly showed during waken hours were lost as she slept.

She would turn on her side; knees pulled up and hugged a pillow so hard against her chest and face he was afraid she might suffocate at first. Her bangs and curls blocked any change he had to see her sleeping, to try and figure out what she was thinking. The sheets up to around her chin in an effort to hide.

When he tried to pull the sheet slightly away, her breathing quickened and she whimpered softly. She looked like the lost young woman he knew was hiding behind those killer blue eyes, and he felt bad about turning the other way, ignored that part of her, it felt too awkward because he was no good at handling people even then and she became too fragile when she slept.

It felt even more uncomfortable to put his arm across her stomach, try to pull her close. She would pull back during the night and he would wake up with at least a good few inches of space between of them, and the distance she put between them would just make him think of all the reasons why he should stay away.

She wanted all the things he was running away from and those few inches just kept growing and growing, and they realized they were nothing to one another.

They were both lost in a mutual need.


	2. Stacy

**Sleeping Habits**

_Part 2/3_

_Stacy_

He met Stacy around the time of his first big time law-suit; she looked as bored as he did during the hearings and rejected his first proposition to dinner. She showed up at his door two days after the settlement and said something about a lawyer-client thing, and he smiled.

Sex with her was amazing, especially after one of their constant shouting matches. She'd slammed the door in his face, fuming with a cigarette in hand, and he would just turn towards his piano with a cup of whatever was at hand. He never went after her because he knew perfectly well that she would be back soon enough with an 'I'm sorry' half-smile and drag him to bed for earth shattering make-up sex.

When they were done, still trying to catch their breaths, she would give him a pleased smile and a quick kiss before turning over and laying down on her back, face turned sideways, usually towards the wall. She would have one leg wrapped around the sheets, her other leg bended just slightly at the knee, with her feet point just so that he could clearly see the arch from years of ballet.

One hand would be over her stomach and the other would twirl a strand of hair until she fell asleep. It always seemed to him as if she was trying to win some of her independence back as she slept, because she never wanted to get more than necessary of him during those hours.

The first few times they slept together she was fine with his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible to himself. As time went on he noticed that she would pull away from him slightly, little by little until all he had was an arm draped around her stomach and fingers wrapped around her always cold fingers. Until he decided to let them go and for the warmth the underside of his pillow offered.

With her, he learned how to sleep on his stomach. It sometimes felt like this new habit was his way of losing to her. That everything between them was just a game they didn't want to lose.

Sometimes, he thought that if the sex wasn't so amazing, he would go after one of the nurses that gave him those lustful eyes, so he could remember what it was like to have someone completely pressed against him. He didn't remember if it felt as good as those sickly sweet romance movies pretended it was.

She wasn't the cuddling type, even though they use to cuddle in the beginning of their relationship, and he had always said he wasn't either (maybe that's where the lies started). But sometimes he wished she would move closer to him.

He spent all the years they were together saying that was how he liked woman, always close but at arm's length. That was the only way he ever had her.

They were both just too proud to admit they needed something else.


	3. Allison

Sleeping Habits

Part 3/3

Allison

Allison had driven him crazy from the moment she walked into his office with a nervous smile and shaky fingers. It was during that first interview, the one which she nervously babbled through, that he first imagined bending her over the glass table in the conference room. He was only human after all (no matter if Wilson kept insisting he wasn't) and she just had this air about her that screamed 'hot in bed'.

She worked for him for three and a half years and in that time he was certain he could have had her in any way he wanted. But, he kept his fantasies to himself. It didn't help that they just kept getting more and more frequent.

She didn't help by remembering his birthday, Christmas or Valentine 's Day (his official 'crazy sex days'). The red dress at that stupid function just made him want to know exactly what type of underwear she was wearing. The swish of her hips as she passed by him, with pants that hugged the curve of her ass so perfectly it made him so many times just want to reach out see how it would feel against his hands.

He remembers how every Wednesday she would show up to work with a button undone, a skirt that showed just a little too much, or tousled hair and lip-gloss (he needed to know what flavor it was). And that kiss just about send him over the edge, needle or no needle, because she tasted of everything he wanted but was to afraid to admit.

Then there was the 'I love him' on the documentary. The one he found when he was snooping through the tapes with every intention of 'accidentally' burning them on the roof, it scared him to hell that he was almost happy she still had feelings for him.

He isn't sure who started their 'relationship' (it was probably her. He was always too nervous about these things, no matter how hard he tried to pretend he wasn't.). But, one night both of them were sitting in his apartment. She had invited herself over after a double shift on the E.R. (insisting that he never upheld the promise of dinner-and-a-movie date from almost three years before), a bowl of popcorn between then and two beers on the coffee table. The movie they were watching was crappy and her hand had somehow found itself high up his left injured leg. It took a moment for him to remind himself that she didn't work for him anymore, that this (whatever it was) could actually happen now.

The bowl of popcorn was pushed aside, letting buttered and salty goodness spray all over his floor and probably underneath the couch to keep the dust bunnies company. For a second that mattered, but then her lips were against his again and they tasted of cherry lip-gloss and he didn't care, because he had finally found one of the things he had been wondering about her.

‑­

They took their time, slowly undressing and finding those little spots in each other's bodies that drove then insane. It was weird because he always thought that if they did end up having sex, the first time would be raw and angry and hard. But, she had straddled him on the couch, her blond curls falling on his shoulder, and moaned against his ear, as she slipped him slowly inside her. She gave him this wicked little smile and he knew he had been right: she was everything he daydreamed about.

When they finally moved to his bedroom, (hours, days, years later) he kissed her neck and wrapped an arm around her waist. He insisted that he was not cuddling. Then, she smiled and rolled her eyes, before falling asleep.

He would wake up earlier than her at least three or four times a week,(he would say it was just his leg when she asked) and watch her sleep. For him, that said much more about their 'relationship' then anything else could.

She would sleep half her stomach with the covers around her waist, letting him count the sprayed freckles on her back. Her face turned towards him, no matter if they switched sides or if they fell asleep on the couch, with her hair all over the place in a mess of blond curls that he would always slowly brush away from her eyes. One hand underneath a pillow and the other on his chest, gently tracing imaginary patters and lulling him to sleep while one of her legs was entwined between his.

With Allison he learned how to cuddle.

And by hell it scared him.

**--**

**I'm thinking about making one more chapter on House's point of view. **

**It will be up to you, please review.**

**GabbyAbby**


End file.
